


No Fairytale Endings Here

by sweetcarolanne



Category: Don't Stand So Close to Me - The Police (Song)
Genre: Angst, Creepy, Crushes, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Gossip, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lies, No Sex, Regret, Schoolgirls, Swearing, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcarolanne/pseuds/sweetcarolanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't supposed to be like this... her romantic fantasies about her handsome young teacher had all gone wrong, and she didn't want this anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fairytale Endings Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiderfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderfire/gifts).



> Dear spiderfire, I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted! To truly capture the disturbing nature of the tale, I decided to tell it from the girl's point of view rather than the teacher's, unlike the song. Happy Jukebox-Fest!
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: Implied teacher/student sexual abuse - the themes are disturbing although not explicit, and the contents of this story may be triggering for some.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the song or its lyrics and am making no money from this story,
> 
> Many thanks to my beta who wishes to remain anonymous,

This was definitely not romantic, and not remotely like anything she had ever wanted romance to be. Whatever she had felt for him before was gone, and had been replaced by a chilling wave of repulsion and a fervent wish that she had never felt any form of attraction towards the man in the first place.

He almost certainly regretted the time he had spent in her company. Whenever their paths crossed at school now, a pained expression of guilt would crease his features, and he would shake and cough as if the very sight of her, and his memories of what he had done to her, made him ill.

And so he should feel guilty, she would think as her brow furrowed and she barely suppressed a snort of contempt. He was a complete and utter sick bastard, after all.

She found herself sitting time and time again in the classroom, face burning, hands clenched and eyes cast down, trying vainly to keep her mind on her schoolwork and pretending that what was happening around her did not affect her the slightest bit. But the whispers and giggles of her former friends seemed to echo loudly, and the unmistakable gestures of conversing behind their hands and ceasing their talk abruptly if she looked in their direction or walked past them told her that her fears were far from groundless.

They had cut her out of their charmed circle forever. She was an outcast, a figure of fun, the subject of gossip who only existed to be speculated about, shunned and callously scorned.

Sometimes she would overhear snatches of their cruel and idle talk, and she would feel sick to her stomach. 

“Do you think they’ve actually done it yet?”

“I’m so surprised he actually picked _her_. Why not someone closer to his own age? That trainee teacher in Mr Smith’s class likes him, it’s obvious that she does. So why did he go after that skinny little weed? She’s younger than most of us, even – isn’t her birthday in _September_ , for fuck’s sake?”

“Somebody should really tell the Headmistress. Or her parents. Or both!”

“The whole thing is just beyond creepy. I mean, seriously, _eww_!”

There were days when she contemplated staying home from school – telling her mother that she had a cold or severe period pain just so she could get away from all the sickening, shameful loose talk that always seemed to be present wherever she went. It was doubtful, she often found herself despondently thinking, that anyone would ever believe her if she attempted to tell them the truth of what had really gone on between her and him. 

In the beginning, she had tried to tell herself that the other girls were just jealous. It was no secret that she was not the only girl in her class who had fancied the handsome young teacher. She remembered with a sigh the happier times at the start of that school year, those times that now seemed to be an eternity ago, when she and her friends had sat and chatted over lunch about how gorgeous Sir was, and they would good-naturedly tease each other about how he had smiled at one or another of them during lessons. 

“He was flirting with you! No, really, he was! Didn’t you see the way he looked at you when we were reading _Romeo and Juliet_?”

Like the others, she had had her share of adoring, starry-eyed dreams about him. She had often briefly wondered what it might be like to go dancing with him dressed in a turquoise and silver ball-gown of silk and lace with sparkling Cinderella shoes, or to gaze at him over the intimately secluded table of a fancy restaurant as they dined on lobster (she had never tasted lobster, but she knew that it was very expensive and so she thought it must be extremely delicious) and sipped champagne. Occasionally she may have had a fleeting fantasy about a kiss or two, but that was as far as even her most hidden and passionate thoughts would stray. And this man was not even the only subject of her youthful fancies – her favourite singer, a good-looking actor from a film or play she had once seen or even a foreign prince she had completely dreamed up by herself were just as likely to feature in her imaginings as her teacher was. 

She had never thought that anything might truly happen between him and her, even though she had formerly told herself that she wanted it to. But then there was that moment during bookmarking where everything had very suddenly appeared to change.

He had seemed to pay her very little attention at first as she had waited for him to check her work, but as he ticked each of her answers to the reading comprehension questions and murmured his approval at her getting ten out of ten as usual, she had blushed hotly and smiled a little more meaningfully at him than she would normally have done. In those few seconds, something electric had obviously passed between them.

His eyes had flashed, her blush had deepened and it was immediately much too warm in the room. Her school uniform felt tight and itchy, and it was as if she was standing far too close for comfort to him. 

Both of them had moved swiftly apart, he with a soft intake of breath that was audible only to her. And for the rest of the day he had looked as uncomfortable as she was feeling at this very moment. At the time, however, she had been almost walking on air. He had noticed her at last!

For the next few days, her daydreams were full of him, and him alone. She even dared to imagine herself in a few years’ time, at the age of seventeen or eighteen perhaps, standing next to him before the altar of a small and picturesque seaside church, her face bedewed by happy tears as he placed a slim gold band upon her finger and lifted her gauzy white veil to place a chaste kiss upon her lips.

In reality, on that day when he had given her a ride home in his car after seeing her waiting at the bus-stop in the rain, his kisses had been anything but chaste. There was no beauty or innocence in the sensation when his mouth had touched hers. His hand on her thigh had felt rough and cold, and his hair looked greasy and had smelled unwashed. A fug of cigarette smoke seemed to cling to his clothing, and she had wanted nothing more than to fling the car door open and run as if her life depended on it, despite the oncoming traffic and the building storm.

She knew for a fact that he was denying what had happened on that fateful day. On her way to class the next morning, she had been walking past the staffroom and heard her teacher’s voice, raised in far too strident anger. 

“How dare you accuse me of anything inappropriate – I would never even think of such a thing! She’s only a child! I would have done the same for anyone, for any of the pupils _or_ the staff. It was pouring with rain out there. I was only trying to help, and you’re completely out of your mind if you think – “

She had literally run the rest of the way to her classroom, not wanting to hear any more of his outrageous lies. 

Now she lay on her bed, fighting back tears and trying to empty her thoughts of him, striving to focus her mind instead on the slight thump of the music from her older sister’s stereo through the wall, hoping it might somehow lull her into unconsciousness. But after a few minutes of struggling vainly for sleep, she found herself sliding out of bed and padding down the hallway to the living room.

Her mother had obviously gone off to bed, as had her younger brother. The television was blaring loudly, but her father looked up, somehow sensing his daughter’s presence, his brow quickly creasing with worry as he saw the very distressed look on her face. 

She sat down upon the sofa beside him, staring moodily at the floor.

“Dad? I want to move to another school. I don’t like it where I am anymore.”


End file.
